


Free To Be

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shower Sex, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's tired of hiding he and Sam's relationship from the rest of the world, so he decides to take matters into his own hands, and Sam couldn't be happier about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a caption from a photoset I saw on Tumblr somewhere. I don't know where these things come from, they just happen. Also, the song that Sam is singing in the shower is called "The Shadow of Your Smile." Also also, I take prompts for Wincest, Sastiel, and Destiel - they are more than welcome. Drop me a message in my askbox - theboykingandhisangel.tumblr.com, if you are so inclined. I would love to chat and write for you.

Dean was tired of a lot of things, but there was one thing in particular that was wearing on him more than others.

Sam had fallen asleep beside him quite some time ago, one arm thrown over Dean's chest in a protective fashion. Any other night, Dean would have tucked himself against the strong curve of Sam's strong body, drifting off to sleep as Sam held him close. Tonight though, he just couldn't find solace in the temporary oblivion of REM, not even with Sam holding him close and protecting him from the chill of North Dakota in February.

Being with Sam like this was heaven. It had been almost two years now and Dean had never once looked back to what life was like before he and Sam become more than just brothers. It didn't feel wrong, dirty, or bad – just very, very right. Dean lived for the soft kisses that Sam would give him at any time of day or night, the warm brush of hands across his shoulders, the paint-peelingly hot sex that they had on a near nightly basis. He and Sam still fought and argued as all brothers do but it was never serious, and more often than not was made up with the most exquisite physical contact he had ever known. Ever since that first time, Dean had sought no one else's touch but Sam's, and he knew that he was hooked for life.

What bothered Dean more than anything was the fact that in public, he couldn't touch Sam how he wanted. Discreet brushes and stolen kisses were as far as they got, and they had to make do with “accidental” bumps of hands, Sam's fingers twining with his for the briefest of seconds and then they were apart. Dean wanted to kiss Sam full on the mouth in public, let the world know 'this is who I love more than anyone else.' But he couldn't, and it wasn't fair. People knew who the Winchester brothers were, the biggest part was the whole brother thing – so what if the one person that Dean wanted to spend the rest of his life with was of his own flesh and blood? It's not like they would be having children together. And he had done his research, not that he cared that it was “taboo” anyway. Dean truly could not have given less of a fuck – Sam was a consenting adult, and had consented to this a long time ago. If given the opportunity, Dean would fuck Sam in broad daylight and not give a damn about who saw.

Dean got up and went over to the room's small refrigerator, his throat dry from worry and frustration. He hoped that he and Sam hadn't finished off the last of the beers, and felt a small amount of relief as his fingers curled over the cool, dark glass of the last bottle of lager. He popped the cap, appreciating the quick, sharp rush of air that accompanied the motion. Beer always reminded him of Sam, because they had spent many a night on the hood of the Impala looking up at stars and sipping a cold one, and that had been done even before they became lovers. Those were the times that Dean had enjoyed most, just him and Sam in the middle of nowhere, nothing but the cool burn of a good brew and a vast celestial blanket. Throw in one of Sam's strong arms around his shoulders and he was a very happy camper.

Dean felt his way through the dark to the room's worn but comfortable armchair and sat down, looking back to see if Sam was still asleep. He took a sip of his beer, the cool liquid leaving a trail of warmth down his throat. He leaned his head back, the ceiling just perceptible in the darkness. Life was difficult enough for them – why did it have to effect and mess up the intimate part of his and Sam's relationship? Right, they were Winchesters – a hard life was their status quo, the game plan every single morning they woke up. To be frank, if Dean was honest with himself, it sucked.

Dean let out a long sigh, not feeling in the least any better about anything. Even his beer had suddenly lost its smooth taste. He turned on the television, turning the volume down low. He absently flipped through the channels, finally settling on a late night airing of _Blade Runner._

He finished his beer and was starting to doze off again when a pair of warm hands slid down his bare chest and a soft voice sounded in his ear. “Can't sleep?” Dean looked up and saw Sam smiling down at him, long brown hair falling forward.

Dean returned his smile and said “Didn't mean to wake you Sammy.” Sam kissed Dean on the forehead and said “Just missed you, that's all.” Sam was sleepy and his eyes were hooded with tiredness, but his soft smile was all it took for Dean's frustration to melt away for the moment and go back to lay down with Sam.

Sam got in the bed first and peeled the covers back, laying on his side so that Dean could snuggle up next to him. Dean yawned and laid down, pressing his back to the long curve of Sam's torso. Why he hadn't just done this when he'd first tried to sleep he had no idea, because he instantly felt better.

Sam gave him a soft kiss on the side of his head and whispered “Sleep well Dean.”

Dean was already drifting off to dreamland.

. . .

Dean woke up the next morning without Sam. He immediately sat up and looked around, but the soft rumble of Sam's voice singing from behind the closed bathroom door quickly assuaged his fears. If Sam was singing, that meant he was washing his hair. Dean had listened to it since childhood, and would never tell Sam this outright, but it was incredibly endearing to him. Sam had picked up the habit after his first hunt and had gotten werewolf gore in his hair, and Dean had told him to sing and try to think about something else while he washed it out, and the pattern had never broken. Sam never sang one song in particular, always something different. Today it sounded like he was singing jazz. Sam mostly sang whatever Dean played in the Impala, but jazz indicated that he was feeling romantic. Dean smiled to himself and went over to the bathroom door, finding it unlocked.

He stepped inside, and Sam's words became much clearer:

“Our wistful little star was far too high

A teardrop kissed your lips and so did I

Now when I remember spring, all the joy that love can bring

I will be remembering the shadow of your smile...”

“Maybe I'll just get rid of the radio and listen to you instead Sammy.” Dean could practically hear Sam's smile as he pulled aside the shower curtain. “I was wondering when you were gonna get your lazy ass up. Come on in, the water's still hot.” Dean pulled down his boxers as Sam moved aside to let him in.

“Morning Dean.” Sam gave him a soft, wet kiss.

“Morning Sammy.” Dean smiled at Sam, his green eyes twinkling. “Your singing woke me up.”

“Wasn't too loud, was I?” Sam grabbed the bottle of Old Spice and squirted some in his hand.

“No Sammy, it was kinda nice actually.” Dean relaxed as Sam soaped up his body.

“Just kinda nice?” Sam turned Dean around and washed his back. “You're tense.”

“Had a lot on my mind lately Sam.” Dean's head dipped and put a hand out against the wall of the shower, holding himself up because Sam's hands were working all sorts of magic on his back and shoulders.

“Mm.” Sam wasn't going to pry if Dean didn't want him to. “I know that feeling Dean. Sucks, doesn't it?”

Dean let out a deep breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. “Sam.... I want to start doing this in public.” Dean turned around and took Sam's hands in his own. “Sam, I don't think you understand just how much you mean to me, and yeah I give you shit for no chick-flick moments but goddammit... I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss you in diners and on sidewalks and whatever. But....” Dean looked down at Sam's body, looking for an answer in the rivulets of water rushing over Sam's skin.

“But what Dean?” Sam put a hand under his chin and tilted his head up to look at him.

“But people would say stuff. And lots of folks know we're.... brothers.”

Sam gave him a gentle kiss. “And outside of the hunting community, how many people know that Dean?” 

“Well not many but...”

“But nothing. Dean, if that's what you want, then screw what anyone else thinks. Hell I want it too. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands to myself all the time?” This time, the kiss that Sam gave Dean was a lot more passionate, and all it took was the briefest of brushes of Sam's tongue against his to make his body stir. Sam pressed his wet body close to Dean's, ratcheting up the heat between them. Sam pulled Dean closer by his hips with a quick motion, and Dean got hard in an instant. Sam manhandled Dean until his back was facing him, Sam's hard cock brushing against his back.

“You gonna fuck me Sammy? Gonna make your big brother come?” Dean was putty to be molded in Sam's arms.

Sam chuckled low in Dean's ear. “Well one of those things is true.” Sam kissed down Dean's neck, his lips combined with the hot water running over Dean's body causing a warm heat to settle low in his stomach. 

“So fucking sexy Dean.” Sam nipped at Dean's earlobe as his fingers slid around the girth of Dean's cock, stroking towards the tip. Dean shuddered with pleasure, the rough drag of Sam's hand a direct contrast with the smooth skin of his cock. Sam had his other arm around Dean's torso, holding him steady. Dean leaned his head back, Sam's face warm against his. 

Sam stroked him deliberately, using long, tight motions that made Dean's knees tremble. Sam jacking him off was almost as good as fucking, with the way that Sam's hand touched him so expertly. Sam gently bit at the skin of Dean's neck, every dig of his teeth going straight to Dean's cock, precome leaking from the end of it over Sam's fingers. Sam held him close, his own cock hard against Dean's back, smearing precome over Dean's skin. Dean reached behind him and grasped Sam in his hand, the angle making it awkward for Dean to stroke him, but he tried anyway.

Sam pushed Dean's hand away and said “Let me focus on you Dean – plenty of time for that later.” Sam sealed his words with a kiss to the side of Dean's neck and stroked harder, Dean's back arching away from Sam's body. Dean was close, really close, and he could tell Sam was trying not to push him, wanted him to enjoy it as long as he could.

Dean was on the verge of blacking out, Sam's hand exquisite upon his flesh, the heat of

Sam's body mingling with his own, and all of a sudden his orgasm hit him like a freight train, long ropes of come shooting out of him, splattering the wall in front of him. No one had ever made him come harder than Sam, and he had told Sam many times. He felt something warm and slick against the back of his leg and realized that Sam had come just from watching Dean, and a second orgasm followed on the heels of his first, racking his body with spasms of pleasure, his moans making the walls of the shower reverberate. Sam waited until Dean's body had finished shaking before spinning him around and pulling him into a hard kiss, Sam's softening cock still thick and heavy against his leg.

Sam broke the kiss after a few moments and said “Better?” Dean nodded and hugged Sam close, his world happy for the time being. Sam rubbed his back and let him come down, a sated feeling filling both their bodies until the water began to run cold.

. . .

Breakfast that morning was a bag of donuts and hot coffee grabbed on the way out of town, the Impala's heater at full tilt as they headed west towards California. Dean munched happily on the sticky pastries, licking his fingers off one at a time as soon as he ate one. Sam decided that should have been illegal and felt himself go red when he realized he was watching Dean too intently. Dean grinned and grabbed another donut, the sticky glaze coating his fingers. Sam chewed his bottom lip and stopped mid chew, his eyes running over Dean's body. 

“Can I help you Mr. Can't Keep His Eyes On The Map?”

Sam turned his head away and shifted in his seat. “No.... just... no. I'm good.”

Dean smirked and wiped his fingers in the napkin on his leg. “Good shower this morning by the way.”

Sam smiled and said “I was hoping you'd enjoy it.”

They were silent for awhile, just the thrum of the Impala's engine and AC/DC playing over the speakers filling the air. Sam broke the silence and asked “What were you so tense about yesterday Dean?” He didn't bother to look at Dean, knowing that whatever Dean would inevitably say would come out much sooner if he wasn't looking at him.

“It's nothing Sammy, don't worry about it.”

Sam noticed that Dean didn't say “wasn't.” “You can tell me Dean, I promise.”

“Sam really, I'm fine.” Dean gave him a sideways glance.

“Alright. But if you want-”

“To talk, I know you're right there. Where are we headed anyway?”

Sam sat up a little and unfolded the map more. “San Francisco. Got what might be a ghoul skulking around some graveyards.”

Dean stepped on the accelerator, his thoughts a maelstrom in his head.

. . .

As it turned out, it was a ghoul, and a nasty one. Hell Dean could almost sympathize with it. After all, they were taking away its food. They made relatively short work of it, after they found it munching on the flesh of the recently deceased. Sam had lured it out, and Dean had sliced its head off with one clean motion from behind, dropping its body to the ground. They burned it on the spot, keeping an eye out for other people who might decided that a graveyard visit was in order at night.

They were nearly caught on the way out of the cemetery by a cop, walking across the parking lot to the Impala. Dean had charmed his way out of it, saying that they were groundskeepers who had left behind some equipment earlier. It had taken a lot of explaining and a profuse amount of Sam making puppy dog eyes at the officer but they got out of it, streaked with dirt and what was probably blood, and Dean had never been so glad that it was dark in his life. 

The ride back to their motel was silent, the streets of San Francisco still busy at this late hour. Dean drummed on the steering wheel, watching the couples on the sidewalk go by hand in hand. They all looked so happy, so content with each other. Sam was staring out his window, the corners of his lips turned down. Dean knew he was seeing the same thing he was, was wanting it too. Dean said “Fuck it” and reached over and grabbed Sam's hand, holding it tight. Sam turned to him and smiled without saying a word, taking notice of the smile spreading across Dean's face in his reflection on the windshield.

Dean drove a few more minutes, looking for a bar. Spying on the corner of the next turn, he said “Sammy you want a beer?”

“I'd like that Dean. I really would.”

. . .

The bar was quiet, and Dean noticed a bunch of same-sex couples sitting at tables or booths all around, grabbing Sam by the hand and leading him over to the bar. The bartender, a friendly looking man in his late thirties said “And what can I get for you gentlemen?”

Dean turned to Sam and said “Whatever he wants. Drinks are on me tonight.” Dean put his arm around Sam's waist and pulled him close.

Sam returned Dean's look and said “Just the house draft.” The bartender nodded and got two glasses off the shelf behind him, filling them up with beer, a dark lager from Canada. He set them down in front of Sam and Dean and turned to the next customer. Dean cocked his head towards a corner booth and Sam followed him.

As soon as they were settled in Sam asked “What's all this for Dean?”

Dean set down his beer and said “Tired of hiding it Sammy. Tired of hiding that I can't get enough of you. That's what was bothering me last night. No more baby boy, gonna kiss you whenever I want to, don't care who might be watching.” Dean leaned across the small table and kissed Sam full on the mouth, Sam's lips parting as soon as Dean's touched his. Dean held the kiss until it became uncomfortable for him to keep leaning over the table and he sat back down, leaving Sam smiling and breathless.

“All you had to do was say so Dean.” He tentatively reached across the table for Dean's hands, and Dean took them and kissed Sam's knuckles. “Was afraid Sam. But you know what? We're Winchesters – why should we have to conform anyway?”

Sam laughed, throwing his head back. “You surprise me a little more every day Dean, you know that?”

Dean took another sip of his beer and said “What can I say, I'm a man of many sides.”

Sam just smiled and said “Yeah, you are Dean. And you know what? I love all of them.” He moved his foot and touched Dean's with it, feeling Dean press back. 

Dean smiled back at him, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

It was a good night.

. . .

After a couple more beers, they went on a long walk through the streets of San Francisco to sober up, stopping every few minutes to kiss each other. Dean could barely contain his enthusiasm as he held Sam's hand and they walked for what seemed like hours, not saying much and just enjoying each other's company. They came to a small park that was still open, and sat there in silence for awhile, Sam's head resting on Dean's shoulder, just listening to the sounds of the city around them. It was close to midnight, and they didn't have a care in the world.

It wasn't until Dean heard Sam's breathing even out and he realized Sam had fallen asleep. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Sam's head, saying “C'mon Sammy, time to go.” Sam's eyes fluttered open and he yawned, nodding his head. If Dean could have picked Sam up and carried him all the way back to the car, he would have done it. 

It took them awhile to get back to the Impala, and even longer to find their way back to their motel. Sam kept a hand on Dean the whole way back, either holding Dean's or keeping it on his thigh. Dean wanted nothing more than to stop driving and kiss Sam for hours, but he kept driving, letting out a long sigh of relief when their motel was in sight.

As soon as they were in the door, Sam was kissing Dean with that just right amount of fervor and gentleness. Dean whispered in between long kisses “Gonna take care of my Sammy, gonna make him feel so good.” Sam picked up a leg and hitched it around Dean's, and despite the fact that Sam was taller and heavier, Dean carried Sam over to the bed with his legs wrapped around Dean's waist. 

Dean gently laid Sam down and stripped, Sam getting his own clothes off as quickly as he could, moaning when Dean came down on top of him and ground his hard cock against Sam's, naked flesh finally coming together. Dean rutted against Sam, seeking more and more contact. Sam reached down and took Dean's ass in his hands, kneading the firm skin in his hands. 

Dean stopped kissing Sam for a moment and said “Lean back for me Sammy.” Sam moved further up the bed, spreading his legs wide. Dean kissed down Sam's front, his lips soft and wet against Sam's skin. He laved his tongue over Sam's hard cock, precome dripping from the end of it. He licked it up, rolling the salty-sweet taste around in his mouth before going down on Sam, taking the thick length in his mouth, Sam gasping for air as Dean sank down on his cock. 

Dean blew him with long, slow motions, up and down, his tongue leaving no part of Sam's cock unattended. Dean grabbed Sam's hips and held him down, Sam's thickness stretching his lips, saliva running down into Sam's pubic hair. Sam tried to buck up into Dean's mouth, but Dean held him steady.

“C'mon Dean, wanna fuck your mouth.” Sam's pleas came out sounding needy, broken. Dean was doing ungodly things to him with his mouth, and he couldn't keep the fact that he was coming apart at the seams out of his voice.

Dean came up off of Sam's cock and looked Sam in the eye. “Got something else for you baby boy. Gonna get you nice and opened up for me, want you to be good and ready for my cock.” Sam shoved Dean's head down in between his legs, spreading his thighs for Dean. The promise of Dean eating him out was one that Sam had yet to resist in the slightest.

Dean curled one hand around Sam's cock and put the other under him, lifting Sam's ass up a little more. Sam had his legs spread wide enough that Dean could see his tight, pink entrance perfectly, a bud waiting to be teased open. Dean licked down from Sam's balls to the space, the tip of his tongue tentative against Sam's hot flesh. Sam moaned just from that briefest of contacts, and Dean was sorely tempted to tease him until Sam was begging, but he couldn't so that to his Sammy, not tonight. He wanted to give. 

Dean pressed the broad part of his tongue right up to Sam's hole, his breath warm on Sam's skin. He moved his tongue around, tasting as much of Sam with it as he could. Sam fisted his hands into Dean's short hair, groaning as he felt the rough drag of the muscle across him. “God Dean..... please.” Sam wanted Dean to do this, wanted it with every fiber of his being. 

Dean began to stroke and lick deep into Sam simultaneously. Sam writhed on the bed, tangling the sheets under him. This, he decided, was the most exquisite torture he ever experienced, that of Dean's tongue plunging in and out of him, making him fall apart for him. Only Dean could make him feel like this, make him feel so physically incredible – and it was something he could not bare to lose. Sam moaned again as Dean fucked him with his tongue, turning him into a trembling mass of muscle, reaching out with everything he had for Dean, to draw Dean in further. Sam knew that this was it for him, never wanted anyone else but Dean to touch him.

Sam pushed Dean away, a broken “want you” addressed to Dean. Sam was spit-slick and opened up from Dean's tongue, ready for Dean's cock. Sam reached out and ran his hands over Dean's body as Dean rolled on a condom and lubed himself up, taking the remainder of it and putting it on Sam.

Dean lined himself up, his amulet hanging from his chest as he pressed his body close to Sam. Sam reached down and guided him in, looking up at Dean with complete and total awe, his head arching back and his mouth opening wider as Dean slid into him, but never breaking eye contact. 

Sam finally closed his eyes as Dean entered him fully, the thickness of Dean's cock a pleasant fullness inside him. He put his hands on Dean's shoulders and nodded, the two of them needing no words to indicate what they wanted.

Sam wrapped his legs around Dean's waist and kissed Dean long and deep, their tongues sliding against each other as Dean pumped into Sam, his hips moving slow so that Sam could enjoy the sensation as much as possible. Dean's hands found their way into Sam's hair, running it through his fingers as Sam's hands ran up and down his back, his fingernails digging into the muscle as Dean fucked him deeper, picking up speed with every thrust.

Sam broke the kiss, panting for breath. “Dean... more.” 

“Sure thing baby boy.” Dean pulled out for a moment and tilted Sam's hips up, changing the angle. Dean slid back in a lot faster, Sam whimpering as Dean nailed him right in the prostate on the first thrust, Sam's cock twitching every time afterwards as Dean drove him closer and closer to bliss.

Sam hitched his legs around Dean tighter, pressing Dean forward more and more, trying to make Dean hit as deeply as he could. Dean braced himself against Sam's shoulders and went faster, the sound of flesh against flesh sounding loudly in the darkened motel room. Dean could feel Sam's fingernails burning trails into his back, clinging to Dean for dear life. Sam was wrapped around him so tightly that Dean thought he was going to black out from the heat between them, and it was getting hotter by the second.

“God Sammy.... so fucking close for you.” Sam reached down and pulled on Dean's hips, and that was all it took, Dean coming with a shout as he hit his climax, his head buried in Sam's shoulder, Sam's legs holding him close. Dean felt a tear of pleasure roll down his cheek, the tightness of Sam being just this side of too much.

Dean picked his head up and realized that Sam was still hard, his cock leaking precome. “Fuck Sammy, I'm sorry-” Sam stopped him with a kiss. “'S okay Dean. I know you'll take care of me.” Dean gave him another kiss and reached down, extracting himself from Sam's ass. He rolled off the condom and poured his come over Sam's cock, the substance still warm from Dean's body. 

Dean squeezed as much of it out as he could, and then tossed the condom towards the trash can. He laid down beside Sam and hooked one arm around Sam's shoulders and his other hands took Sam in hand, using his own come as lube. He drank down the moan that Sam let out as he kissed him, his hand working over Sam's come slick cock. 

Sam shook as he came after just a minute of Dean touching him, white hot come spurting over his shoulder and hitting Dean in the face, the rest coming down on his body, coating him from chest to groin. Sam's back arched the whole way through, falling back on the bed as he came down, his body flushed red and his eyes closed as he drew in deep breaths. Dean wiped the come off the side of his face and kissed the side of Sam's face, whispering “So good Sammy, so beautiful when you come.”

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean, smiling. “Sorry I hit you in the face.” 

Dean chuckled and kissed Sam briefly on the lips. “No worries Sammy. C'mon, let's get cleaned up.” Dean rose from the bed, and Sam followed him to the bathroom. Dean wet a cloth and wiped Sam down, ridding his body of all the come splattered on it. When he was done, he pulled Sam in for a long kiss, holding Sam close and tight. It was the coming together of two souls meant for each other, rejoicing in each other's body, grounding themselves to each other.

Sam fell asleep that night with Dean wrapped around him, cradling his brother in his arms, happy in knowing that when he woke up in the morning there was nothing stopping them from showing the world that they loved each other, free to be as they pleased.

It was a good way to fall asleep.


End file.
